I Bet you Kiss Prostitutes
by GrouchyMcEyebrows
Summary: While attempting to live in a world so cold, Arthur finds salvation through a strange businessman and his kindness. UsUk, Warning: Character death, rape, prostitution
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is my Christmas present for you guys!_

Arthur lazily flicked his cigarette from his hand and onto the cold ground, squashing it under his boots heel as he gazed about the semi empty street. He blew the last remaining smoke from his lungs and resigned himself to breathing the cities stale air, till he could either make money to buy more smokes, or bum them off a client.

The sound of an engine caught his attention as it rumbled down the street. Arthur quickly leaned back against the corner of the wall and lifted one of his feet against it. The car slowed as it approached him till it came to a complete stop, the window winding down with a slight buzzing sound. The shadowy figure of a man inside looked him up and down. Starting from his black boots, slightly scuffed but still going, then proceeding to head up his smooth, pale legs, ending with a pair of black tattered shorts; complete with a union jack patch. The eyes continued still, looking over the fishnet tank top, leather jacket slightly covering his chest so as not to give it all away, and then finally they rested on his face.

The window then started to wind back up and Arthur felt a pang of annoyance as once again, he had lost a possible client, thanks to his rather thick eyebrows. He dropped his foot and sent the car the bird as it drove off, going so far as to mutter 'arse hole' as it disappeared at the end of the street.

"Tch." He grumbled and began to walk down the street. This place was getting boring.

He had not gone much further then two streets down, when another chance for work presented itself in the form of three rowdy men, stumbling and laughing as they made their way down the street. Arthur assumed they were from the bar just a bit further down and smirked as he slowed his pace and moved just off to the side.

As the men approached he began to see more distinctive features on each of them. The man on the right had brown messy hair that was slicked back and a band-aid across his nose probably from a fight; he wore plain jeans and a singlet and had his arm across [or supporting really] the man in the middle's shoulders. This man was the loudest of the three, with short spiked white hair, a tight black shirt and tight black jeans. He also seemed the drunkest. The last man was dressed a bit more conservatively, wearing black pants, a plain white dress shirt and a jacket over that. The top few buttons where undone, giving him a more wild appearance, yet the glasses across his nose gave him a softer appearance compared with the other two. He had blonde hair that looked slick with sweat in the street light, yet one piece seem determined to stick up into the cool night air.

Arthur licked his lips as they moved closer before making his move, sticking his hip out a little and fluttering his eyelids.

"Evening Gent's." He practically purred, placing a hand on his leg. "Might I interest you in some… Late night fun?"

The three men stopped and stared at him. The laughter died down for a moment before the brunette snorted and bent over onto the ground.

"Oh my god!" He chortled, much to Arthur's confusion. "I can't believe 'ere's a real prostitute!" Arthur frowned at the Australian [even with how he slurred as he spoke, Arthur was able to pick out the accent].

"A job's a job, everyone needs money to survive." He mumbled, crossing his arms and letting a small pout slip onto his face. The blonde, who was left to keep hold of the white haired man after the brunette let go, stared down at him with a mixture of pity and something else. Determination? Arthur stared back into the dark blue eyes for a moment before looking at the ground. What was it about the man that made him nervous? He had had looks like that before so why did this man's eyes make him uneasy?

"Wha-what? A prosti?" The white haired man made his debut, smirking as he stumbled forward into Arthur and pinned him against the wall. Arthur yelped and pushed against the man and his alcohol laced breath. He often did freaky and traumatizing things for money but never in public.

The blonde friend pulled the man back and Arthur felt a sense of relief that at least one of them was responsible. He quickly righted himself and smiled up at the only man who could move without swaying.

"S-so what do you say luv?" He really needed this, Arthur realised as he saw something in the man's eyes again. He needed the money more then he'd ever let on, but he had borrowed from Francis too many times to count and was indebted to him as well…

"Sorry, not now." The blonde American answered. Arthur felt a small amount of shock shoot through his system, as he realised he had been turned down again. He tried not to let disappointment register on his face as he smiled and tilted his head to the side in a cheeky manor.

"Maybe next time sweetie," He forced a smile. "You know where to find me." And with that he continued on his way, fighting back his emotion as he heard 'Man! Did you see his eyebrows?' being shouted behind him...

**Four am. **

Not a time Arthur liked to be out at, especially in this neighbourhood. He glanced around, pulling his jacket closer around his body as the cold was finally starting to settle in. Clubs had died down by now and drunken idiots roamed around, throwing up and falling over. Arthur did his best to avoid the drunks at this hour as he sidestepped around one man who had passed out on the concrete.

With a final look around him, Arthur decided it was about high time he called it a night and turned to make his way home to the small dingy apartment in which he lived.

He was half way home when the headlights of a car shone into his back. Arthur sighed and turned to see why someone was shining his or her lights at him. If it was the cops again he was going to be pissed, if it was Francis, well, then he couldn't promise that he wouldn't behave himself and punch the frog's face. Debts be dammed!

The lights dimmed as the high beam was turned off and Arthur was finally able to see who was checking him out via headlight. The car was black and sleek, far nicer then Francis's car and more expensive even then a policeman's unmarked car. It slid up slowly beside him and stopped. Arthur raised an eyebrow, curious as to why someone who owned such a nice car was looking for prostitutes at four in the morning but hey, so long as he got paid he didn't care.

The person must have liked what they saw in the headlights because instead of just the window being wound down, the door opened revealing a nice leather interior. Arthur grinned as he eased himself down onto the soft leather and closed the door behind him. He turned to the driver to see who he was pleasuring that morning and was shocked to see the blonde America from earlier.

"When I said 'not now', I didn't mean not ever." The man smiled cheekily as he put the car into drive and headed off. Arthur opened his mouth but closed it again after realising he didn't have anything to say to that. Instead he contented himself to looking out the window as the streets slowly became less and less familiar as he was taken further and further from his home.

They didn't speak the entire way, not even for names. Arthur had learned that names made things complicated, especially when his clients usually just screamed out the names of their wives, husbands, girlfriends or boyfriends they either missed or were cheating on. His name didn't really matter in that sense, so he never asked for his clients name either. Why make a one night stand more complicated then it needed to be?

Arthur was again shocked when the car finally came to a stop in front of large house, no, mansion! The man drove the car down into a garage under the house and parked it. Arthur undid his belt and stepped out into the large, but strangely empty garage. Didn't people usually put their junk in their garages?

"I just moved here." The man stated as though seeing Arthur's confusion. "New job required me to move here."

He locked the car and opened a door on the other side of the garage that Arthur assumed led into the house. Again stunned at the cleanliness and lack of anything in the house, Arthur thoroughly believed that the man had indeed, just moved in. There were no moving boxes but the lack of many material possessions seemed to indicate it.

Arthur blinked as he remembered he was there to do a job, get paid and leave, back to his filthy home and even filthier life. He turned to the man who had placed his car keys on a ring on the wall and had removed his jacket, setting it down on the counter. Arthur stepped into him, pressing his body close to the others.

"So," He whispered. "What is it you would like me to do?" He looked up at the man with half lidded eyes, his tongue slipping out and moving against his lips yet his suggestive body language, seemed lost on the man who raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Um, go this way please?" He said before stepping around Arthur and walking away. Please? That was new, Arthur thought as he followed the man to the bedroom. Again, even with just one glance the place seemed empty and devoid of any personal belongings, which gave Arthur, no indication of what this man might be into. Was he a bondage guy? Or perhaps he enjoyed a little role-play… Or maybe he was a masochist? He dearly hoped the man wasn't a sadist, he didn't have that predatory expression that Arthur had seen before, but he certainly had the body to over power Arthur in a heart beat.

The man busied himself in the room, pulling out what looked to Arthur like pyjamas. Really? He was getting ready for bed? Arthur frowned and stood awkwardly off to one side as he watched the blonde search around in his closet for something. Ah. Here came the strange fetish that Arthur would have to help out with.

"Ah, here we go." The man smiled and pulled out a pair of pyjama pants and a shirt that read 'Captain America' on it. He smiled and pushed them into Arthur's hands along with a towel.

"You can use the shower in that bathroom, and I'm pretty sure these should fit you." Arthur stared dumbfounded at the clothing in his arms then looked up at the man.

"Um… A-are you saying that I can take a shower then get dressed into these?" He needed to clarify.

"Well yeah, I dunno what you do with a towel and pj's but here in America we use them to dry ourselves after a shower and wear to bed." The man smiled good-naturedly and pointed out the bathroom to Arthur. Then it dawned on him.

"Y-yes of course, I shall… Shower, then put these on." He smirked. He had the guy all figured out! He would wait until Arthur was in the shower then he'd come in and join him. Hah! How cute and adolescent.

Arthur stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, making sure to keep it unlocked. He then began to strip, leaving his belongings in a neat pile on top of the toilet lid before turning on the shower. The water turned hot almost immediately and Arthur couldn't deny that it had been a while since he'd had such hot water to clean himself in. So before the strange man could make his way in, Arthur quickly grabbed the bar of sweet smelling soap and lathered himself up, making sure to get rid of any grim, dirt and sweat on his body. He even had time to wash his hair with shampoo AND conditioner [he hadn't realised how dirty his hair was till he saw the slightly brown suds dripping down from his bangs].

He had been standing in the warm water for a good ten minutes before a knock on his door sounded and Arthur smiled. Time to get read-

"Are you almost finished? I want a shower too you know!" Arthur stared at the door in disbelief. He wasn't coming in? They weren't going to do it in the shower?

"S-sorry! I'm coming out now!" He called back, fumbling with the shower taps to turn them off and stumbling out of the shower on to the bath matt. He grabbed the towel and dried him self up before slipping into the clothes the man had given him. They were too big but soft and comfortable. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he'd worn clothes this comfortable!

He casually stepped out into the bedroom and noticed the man sitting on the bed, with a towel and pyjamas in his hands also.

"Make yourself comfy on the bed." He said as he stood up and passed Arthur to the bathroom. "There should be a couple of magazine on the bedside table too! I'll be back in a few minutes."

The door closed and a few moments later Arthur heard the water running.

Odd. This entire situation was odd. Arthur had never been offered a shower BEFORE sex… Or given pyjamas either… But maybe the guy liked seeing people in his clothes… Like how a boyfriend might like seeing his girlfriend in his clothing after sex… Except this was before… Arthur frowned harder as he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around.

The room was white, but seemed to glow slightly yellow from the lamps on the bedside tables. It seemed cold and unwelcoming like a hotel room which was where Arthur was usually taken. There were a few photos up on the wall, one of the beach, a picture of the man and a young girl of six or seven, and in the last one was a man who looked almost identical to the man he was currently waiting on. The young girl was in this picture also and, upon closer inspection, Arthur realised this must be the second mans daughter. Her dirty blonde hair held a slight wave to it that his man didn't… She also had soft, kind looking violet eyes and while she was smiling like she hadn't a care in the world, her father looked tired and worn.

So occupied in looking at the photos he didn't hear the water being turned off in the shower, or even the door as it opened.

"Hey." Arthur whirled around, face a tinge of red, embarrassed at being caught staring at his photos. That blush immediately deepened when he saw his host.

The man stood in the doorway, using his towel to dry his hair while small droplets of water slid down his well toned, and slightly tanned, chest creating a small waterfall affect. He was wearing superman pyjama pants but that didn't matter. Arthur clenched his hands into fists, it was all he could do not to jump the man and start licking the water off his skin and maybe even use his teeth…

"Um… Let's get into bed?" The man suggested though he looked wary and almost confused by what he was saying. Arthur frowned harder and crossed his arms.

"You haven't asked anything yet." He glanced at the man who looked back at him confused. "Well, like you haven't asked me about my rates or even about what I'm capable of…" He trailed off as realisation dawned on the man's face.

"I'll pay whatever your… Rate, is, I don't mind but… I'm not really going to do anything with you… Like what you're thinkin'." Arthur felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. He openly stared as the man made his way around the bed and pulled back the covers, and slipped into the soft looking bed. He placed his glasses on the table beside him then patted the space on the bed beside him. Arthur hesitantly walked over and got in, almost tempted to snuggle into the overly soft blanket. He had never experienced something like this before ever. He looked up at the man who was watching him, a slightly amused expression on his face. 'He looks younger without his glasses on…' Arthur thought absently.

"How old are you?" He asked, curious about why such a young looking man had a house so big.

"I turned 23 on the first of July." He answered, once again, shocking Arthur. 23? He was only 26! The man was three years younger than him? The man laughed loudly and pointed rudely towards Arthur.

"Hahaha! You should see your face! Why do you look so shocked!" Arthur huffed and crossed his arms again, scowling at the laughing man.

"Belt up git! To me you look like a child!" The American's face sobered immediately at that comment and Arthur hoped he hadn't insulted him.

"I'm not a child." He mumbled in such a sulky fashion that Arthur wouldn't have believed him even if he looked forty. He smiled… And that smile slowly spread into a grin, which then caused him to chuckle a little, catching the man's attention.

"You look nice when you smile." He commented causing Arthur to once again feel his face flush. What was it about this man that was making him act like a young boy again? He was still, technically, young, but his life made him feel older then he was.

"Th-thank you." He looked down at his hands as they sat in his lap. They lapsed into a small, almost uncomfortable silence, as Arthur didn't know what to say and the man didn't seem interested in what he had to offer. He felt the bed dip as the American placed his hand by his thigh. He looked up to see not dark blue eyes like he had originally thought, but bright blue eyes, like a summer's day.

They were gradually getting closer, till he stopped right in Arthur's face and leaned in, pressing the softest and most chaste kiss Arthur had ever received on the corner of his lips. He vaguely wondered if he looked as startled as he felt from the careful treatment.

Another kiss was planted on his cheek and then they started a trail going up, one on his cheekbone, one on his eyelid and even one on his forehead. There he paused.

"What's your name?" Arthur let out a choked sob and dropped his face into his hands in a desperate attempt to hide the tears that began to fall. He wasn't even sure why this man's gentle nature was affecting him so. He felt two arms wrap securely around him and pull him in close, turning him so that he was burying his face into the man's chest instead of his hands.

There they stayed like that for what felt like hours, the man slowly rubbed circles on his back, while Arthur's full on sobs had quietened to soft whimpers and an occasional shuddering breath.

Very slowly, the man pushed Arthur back so that they were looking into each other's eyes, their faces only inches apart. "Are you ok?" He whispered, voice full of genuine concern. Arthur nodded and lifted a hand to wipe away a stray tear slipping down his chin. He dropped forward so that his forehead was resting on the man's shoulder and sighed, a slight headache coming on from all the crying.

"Arthur… " He mumbled into the warm skin as the man's hands began to rub circles on his back again. "My name is Arthur."

"It suits you."

And Arthur smiled.

Arthur woke late the next day to a pale orange light shining through the closed curtains and rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the light. The bed was empty except for him and when he turned to look for the strange man, he found the room was too, empty except for himself. He took check of his body and nothing had been touched. He was still wearing the man's pyjamas and he couldn't feel a dull ache in his backside, so he concluded that last night had been, to be put simply, just sleeping in the same bed together and nothing else.

He hadn't realised that he had fallen asleep after he cried so much, but an overwhelming surge of emotions pushed him over the edge and he couldn't help himself. He had not known such gentleness in so long it surprised him and now he longed for the chaste kisses on his face and the secure feeling he got when the man's arms were holding him.

He looked to his right and saw a clock on the bedside table. Upon closer inspection, he saw it read 6:45 pm. Arthur sucked in a quick breath as he was stunned to find that he had slept all day and it was now sunset. And he hadn't been kicked out. But why would he still be allowed in the house? Maybe the man was in another room, waiting for him to wake up so he could kick him out.

Arthur pulled the warm covers off his legs and slipped off the bed, making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to where he thought the living room was. As he walked, he noticed there were still hardly any personal belongings around the house. It was very, odd, to say the least.

The kitchen was white and sterile, the tiles freezing cold under his feet as he stepped in and looked around.

"Hello?" He called softly, but was only met with silence. Just as he was about to leave the kitchen, a note caught his attention on the counter. He picked it up and read it.

'_Dear Arthur,_

_Thank you for last night, I hope your head doesn't hurt too much this morning. If you are hungry there is some left over's in the fridge from my dinner the other night that you may have. _

_Also, you didn't tell me your rates so I made an educated guess and left it on top of your clothes in the bathroom. _

_When you leave just use the front door and don't worry about it being unlocked, as you've probably noticed, there's nothing of any value in this house to actually steal. _

_Thank you again, _

_Alfred.' _

Alfred. So that was the man's name. And he had even left Arthur food? His stomach growled right on cue as Arthur put the note down and turned to dark grey fridge. True to his word, inside was a plate with a large slice of lasagne sitting on it, covered in plastic. On top was a small post it note with a smiley face and the words 'eat me!'

Arthur pulled the plate out and looked for a microwave. Upon locating it he pulled the note and plastic off the plate and popped it in for a minute. While it was re-heating he decided to go up and see how much he had been paid.

His clothes were still folding on the bathroom floor where he had left them last night, and on top of the pile was an envelope. He fished around in it and pulled out two clean, crisp fifty-dollar bills. Arthur stared at the money in his hand in disbelief. Had he just gotten paid one hundred dollars for crying in his arms and falling asleep? Yes, yes he had and if he knew what was good for him then he would just take the money without any qualms.

A loud and continuous beep let him know that his food was ready, so he tucked the money back into the envelope and into his shorts pocket before walking back to the kitchen. The room smelt amazing, like an Italian restaurant. Arthur smiled and pulled out the hot plate and quickly placed it on the counter, his mouth already drooling at the scent and now the sight of the home cooked food. He quickly found a fork and dug in, marvelling at how delicious it was and that shocked him.

How long had it been since he'd eaten a home cooked meal? In fact, how long had it been since he'd eaten at all? He paused with the fork half way to his mouth when he realised that he hadn't eaten in days. He smoked, he had sex and maybe he slept a little but eating… It had never crossed his mind.

His hand holding the fork dropped till it was settled on the counter next to the plate, as Arthur suddenly realised that his life was complete and utter shit. Well, he knew it was, he didn't grow up thinking 'I want to be a prostitute when I'm an adult!' No… He was going to be a literature professor… But his fee's got too high, he couldn't hold down a job and it wasn't long before he got into the stripper business. It was only for the money, he had told himself day in and day out because it was, dare he say, good money. But somewhere along the line he got lost and ended up dropping out of university and suddenly being a prostitute was the only option left.

A tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek as he came to the horrible realisation on how horrible his life really was… He was an ugly, dirty prostitute who had to borrow money and use his body to survive. And the worst thing was his job wasn't even legal.

Another tear followed the first one and then another, till they were rolling down his cheeks faster than they had the night before. They fell on the counter, his borrowed clothes and even on his food. Arthur looked down at the lasagne as it continued to steam and let its delicious scent waft through the air. He could change. He could and he was going to.

Arthur clenched his hand around the fork and once again dug into the hot meal. He ignored the tears as they came and instead shoved as much food as he could into his mouth, half chewing, half swallowing it whole but he just needed it in him. This was going to be his starting point. From that day onward, he was going to right himself.

He was just finishing the last of the lasagne, when he heard a click followed by the sound of a doorknob turning and opening. Alfred was home it seemed; Arthur looked up, as there was a rustling of paper and clothing before the familiar blonde stepped into view. Arthur placed the last piece of his meal into his mouth and chewed slowly as Alfred approached, a small amount of confusion present in his face.

"Sorry, I… I only woke up half an hour ago." He admitted after swallowing the food in his mouth. Alfred nodded several times, looking around at his kitchen before back at Arthur.

"That's… That's fine. You finished now? I'll drop you off where ever you need to go." Arthur licked his lips and nodded, turning heel and walking back up to Alfred's room to change back into his clothes. He didn't want to admit it but Alfred's body language when he realised that Arthur was still in his house had hurt him a little. After the tenderness from last night had hadn't expected the man to act so cold.

Dressed up once again in his 'man catching' gear, Arthur once again followed Alfred into the garage and hopped in his car. Now that it was light, Arthur was able to see the kind of neighbourhood Alfred lived in and he wasn't surprised to see that all the houses surrounding his looked just as impressive. Alfred drove further and further away from the nice neighbourhood, slowing down once they reached the area that he had picked Arthur up from earlier that day.

"Um, just any where around here is ok," Arthur mumbled when he noticed Alfred looking at him for instruction. Alfred pulled up along side a bunch of apartments and stopped the car, pulling up the hand brake then leaning back and waiting. Arthur took that as his cue and unbuckled his seat belt and opened the car door. He had one foot out the door when he turned back to Alfred.

"Thank you, honestly, you are a really good person." He said, smiling somewhat sadly at the man. Alfred smiled wistfully back and simply nodded.

Arthur felt a pang of sadness as the car drove off, leaving him on the side of the road, left behind like a wounded animal. He bit his lip and forced himself not to cry as he moved back down the street to the Asian supermarket he often shopped at. He probably didn't have much food left at home, if any, and now that he had just been paid he could afford it.

He grabbed a basket and filled it with various flavoured instant noodles, a few sweet biscuits and a box of tea. He didn't often drink tea but it helped to make the water in his apartment taste better, and it was cheap. He placed the basket up on the counter and looked up to the wall of smokes behind the clerk.

"Oh, and can I get-"

"… Yes?" The boy asked as he paused scanning the items, his arm already automatically reaching behind him for the cigarettes.

"...No never mind, just these thanks." Arthur's voice wavered as he stopped him self from buying the smokes. If he was going to change he was going to do it now.

'Because it is possible.' He thought, handing over the money to the clerk, before grabbing his bags and change.

...

I know! I know I should be finishing my other fics! But this was for an idea sparked by a friend and it kind of ran away with me v.v;; … like a long way away.. As I never meant it to be so… Long xD;;; though the first three chapters are pre-written [So don't worry, it's not like you'd be waiting for ages] I'm SOWWEY

[Thanks to my Beta C: ]

I'm hoping I shall get this done for xmas… Or just after.

[ALSO, the title is based of a joke in an American cartoon :D anyone guess where it's from?]


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur flinched as something moved through his hair, sending a small streak of panic down his spine. What if it was some kind of wild animal that had some how snuck into his apartment and was now going to eat him! What ever was moving through his hair changed course, and moved so that it was cupping his face, wait… Arthur's eyes flew open to see another man very close to him, his arm extended in front of him, his hand cupping his cheek.

"Francis." He hissed, rolling over so that his back was facing the other man. The hand trailed down his back and finally left his body altogether.

"Good morning to you too, mon cher." Francis smirked as he lit up a cigarette next to Arthur's bed and blew out a large puff of smoke. Arthur growled and turned back to face him, sitting up and grabbing the fag from his friends mouth, taking it and inhaling the damaging chemicals. He had promised to give up smoking but going cold turkey wouldn't help him very much. He wasn't strong enough for such an extreme method of quitting.

Francis let Arthur finish the smoke, not even complaining about how expensive the kind he liked was, or that Arthur hadn't asked. He sat by the bed and waited patiently, which made Arthur curious. That didn't stop him taking his time to enjoy the smoke, as Francis always picked the best ones. With one final puff, he quelled the cigarette in his ashtray, which Francis had placed beside him and turned to look at his friend.

"Why aren't you talking- are you in trouble, am I?" He frowned when Francis simply smiled and looked away. "Come on, answer me twat!"

"It seemed I was worried but for no good reason, you seem to be ok." Francis chuckled, sweeping a few strands of hair out of Arthur's face. Arthur frowned harder and swiped at his hand.

"What do you mean worried? Of course I'm ok, I was with a client." He stated as he stood. His stomach was starting to rumble, which meant it was time to eat. Maybe he would drink some tea also. Francis stood slower then he and followed after him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

"I mean you disappeared for a whole day. Usually you're back the next morning after a night with… A client as you so eloquently put it, but you didn't come home till late last night. I was worried something might have happened to you." Francis admitted and sighed. Arthur rolled his eyes as he set the kettle on and pulled out one of the tea bags from the box. He turned back to his friend with a raised eyebrow.

Francis was standing opposite him, dressed in his usual black jeans and slightly open black dress shirt. He worked as a late night bar tender, yet Arthur was surprised that he stuck around in this dodgy neighbourhood. Then he had found out about Francis' double life style.

Even with the well paying job the Frenchman dealt drugs. He had never once taken them, nor did he make them but he did get a cut from what he sold. It was easier for him to live in this neighbourhood, as there were more people willing to buy the drugs then if he moved into a more upstart apartment. Arthur would never say it out loud, but he was glad Francis was there. He was one of the only people Arthur trusted enough that he had given the Frenchman a key to his apartment for emergencies. Apparently, not coming home for a night day counted as an emergency.

"They let me sleep in all day… I didn't wake up till six or so." Arthur replied crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring the worried look on his friends face. "I got paid and they didn't make me do anything weird, just in case you're wondering." This earned him a slightly embarrassed look from the older man.

"I know you can handle your self… But every time you get into someone's car how can you be sure you'll ever come back?"

Arthur stiffened. He knew that was the risk, in fact, he knew people who had disappeared after they got into someone's car. He even knew a woman who had been found dead in the car she had gotten into the night before. But it was a work hazard, something he couldn't avoid. Most of the time he was a pretty good judger of character but Alfred seemed to have thrown off his sense.

"I know the risks." He muttered, feeling a little bitter as thoughts of Alfred crept into his mind. "But it's not like I have much of a choice. It's the same as an astronaut. How do they know their spaceship won't explode? Or a race car driver, they could easily get into a crash and die." They weren't good arguments, honestly; at least they were respectable professions.

"Do you really?" Francis countered, catching him off guard. "I've seen you come home with bruises and even bloodied. There are some sick people out there Arthur, who will take advantage of you and might even kill you." Arthur had had enough.

"Yeah? Isn't that what you do? Giving people shitty drugs and taking their money is taking advantage of them! I bet some of those people you've sold it to have died so wouldn't that make you a murderer?" Arthur couldn't pretend that he didn't see the hurt in Francis' eyes, as he pointed out the other man's flaws. Well, it was Francis' own fault for pointing out his.

Arthur watched without remorse as Francis stormed from his apartment, the door slammed hard against the wood as he left. It was only after the kettle started to scream at him and the water was boiling did he start to feel guilty. Francis meant well, he really did and he only said those things to try and help Arthur; but stubborn man that he was, Arthur had to retaliate.

He poured the hot water into the porcelain cup and watched as the tea began to seep through the bag. He probably stared at the cup for about ten minutes before he moved into action and went after Francis.

The Frenchman's apartment was directly across from his own, so it was no wonder he was looking out for Arthur. He stepped over in front of the door and lifted his fist, knocking twice and then waiting for an answer. None came.

"… Francis? … Francis are you there? … I'm sorry, I didn't mean it…" Arthur leaned in so that his forehead was resting against the door, his eyes down and watching for a shadow through the crack at the bottom of the door. When none came he sighed and returned to his home. He knew what he could do, but he would have to find that bakery again first.

Two days of wandering around the suburbs during the day and Arthur finally managed to locate the small bakery, hiding in a group of shops about half a days walk from his apartment. The lady who owned it was small, with shoulder length blonde hair and a soft cheeky expression. She wore a pale green dress that seemed to puff out slightly at her hips, like a dress from the sixties.

She greeted Arthur warily, though he was used to the cold welcome. He often looked quite a horrible sight.

"How may I 'elp you sir?" She asked. At least she could feign politeness. Arthur smiled back at her, in what he hoped made him appear more earnest.

"Um, I-I was wondering if you had any of those pastries with the custard and chocolate?" His eyes made a sweep of the various cakes on display, but he couldn't quite see the one he wanted. The lady's face contorted as she looked to the ceiling in thought.

"You wouldn't happen to mean éclair's would you?" She asked, turning back to look at him.

"They are the long ones with custard and chocolate?"

"Yep!" She smiled brightly and fished around under the counter for a box. She quickly located the éclair's and pulled one out, placing it neatly in the box and then into a paper bag. "Will that be all?" Arthur nodded and licked his lips as the smell of such good food was starting to get to him, but he couldn't waste any more money than he was about to.

He paid the girl the money and took back the change, then left with a 'thank you' and he was back on his way to Francis's.

When he arrived at the apartments, he knocked on Francis' door again and waited for a response. And just like last time no one answered. Arthur looked up and down the corridor twice before leaving the pastry on the floor by the door.

"I, Francis? I got you something… I'm leaving it here ok?" He then returned to his apartment and closed the door. He would never let any one know that he sat by his door for four hours, patiently waiting until the door across from his opened and closed; or that he made sure to check that the pastry had been taken... It had.

It had been a week since Arthur and Francis had last spoken, and over two weeks since he had seen Alfred. Every time he went out, for work or otherwise, deep down he hoped that he would somehow run into Alfred, or that the man would come back for him. He was like a rare treasure among people and Arthur had taken a glimpse of and even touched, such a treasure but now it was gone.

As he stepped out onto the street from a fellow prostitutes home, the same desire for Alfred arose but he suppressed it. It had been a one-time thing, so he had to learn to let him go. A breeze playfully tugged at his clothes as he stepped out into the cold night. He was wearing almost the same clothes, except tonight; instead of a fishnet shirt, he was wearing a white singlet with the words 'Fuck Me' across the middle. The singlet was practically see-through, so it worked the same way as the fish net top, but he still felt more covered. Though because he had borrowed the singlet, he had to give up his jacket for the night to the other prostitute as a trade, which meant that Arthur was now wandering about the streets in a singlet, shorts and boots. To be blunt, he was showing off a lot of skin.

As he waited on his usual corner, his hand unconsciously went to his right cheek. The skin was discoloured and poorly applied foundation was being used to cover it. The night before he had had a particularly wild client who had been a bit too rough with him. The bruise was small but the punch had still hurt. Arthur bit his lip and clenched his hand into a fist against his skin. If this bruise lost him clients then he was going to be pissed. Especially when the guy had only paid him fifty-five dollars! Cheapskate had threatened to tell the police when Arthur said that fifty-five dollars for that kind of behaviour wasn't enough!

It was nearing three fifty am now and Arthur could feel his eye lids start to droop, a sure sign that it was almost time to go home. Giving up smoking was harder than he thought and his body was starting to hate him for it. At least he smelt better…

The purr of an engine caught his eyes however; letting him know that he had one more chance to make some money that night. He turned to the car, ready to strike a pose as he heard the engine start to slow, but the car shocked him, as he never thought he would see it again.

The sleek, black car made its second appearance on the distasteful and macabre street, slowing to a stop right beside Arthur. As it did last time, the car door opened to reveal the plush interior. Arthur tentatively stepped over and peered into the luxury car. Alfred sat in the driver's seat, calm and, it may have been the light in the middle of the car, but Arthur swore he saw the man's eyes sparkle.

Now sure, and unable to hide his delight, Arthur sat down on the passenger seat, closed the door and buckled him self in. Alfred drove off, navigating through the streets as though he had done this many times.

Arthur watched Alfred out of the corner of his eye, taking in the slightly worn appearance of the man despite his happy demeanour. He was dressed nicely today again, but it was cleaner than the first time Arthur had seen him in his work clothes, as though he had ironed and pressed them just before coming out to find him. His eyes drifted up to look at his face. It looked smooth, but it was dark and the shadows on his face may have been deceiving him. He wore his glasses low on his nose, giving Arthur the impression that he only wore them for reading. His eyes once again looked dark blue in the darkness and Arthur found himself missing how pale, yet bright they looked normally. The eye he was checking out turned swivelled to look at him.

Blushing, Arthur quickly turned his entire head and looked out the window to hide his embarrassment. Outside was starting to look less and less familiar, which meant that they were reaching Alfred's home. He heard the man clear his voice beside him and reluctantly turned his head back a little.

"H-how are you?" Alfred inquired, his shoulders tense as he waited for an answer. Arthur's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as soon as the words left Alfred's mouth. When was the last time some one had queried about his wellbeing?

"I… I am well." He left it at that and turned a little more towards Alfred. "A-and you?"

"Can't complain," Alfred answered, some of the tension leaving his shoulders at Arthur's answer. "I just finished presenting a project at work today so I can finally relax!"

It must have been the way Alfred spoke, but this time, he gave the impression of being more carefree. Then again, they didn't speak much last time they interacted, so Arthur really couldn't be absolutely sure of the man's personality just yet.

"That's… Good." Arthur decided to try and keep the conversation going. He liked this new, talkative Alfred. "What was the project on?" Alfred launched into, what Arthur would have described as, a full on lecture about a presentation he had to give to a different company about the benefits of merging with the company he worked for. By the end of it he was fairly certain that they would be merging, but without the papers signed, he could not be sure. Arthur nodded along, not quite understanding all that was being said, but he found it interesting all the same. Just hearing about Alfred's day was simply fascinating to him.

By the time Alfred finished explaining about his presentation, they reached his home (mansion!) and they were now inside it. The night went almost the same as last time. Alfred picked out the pyjamas that he had given Arthur last time, handed them to him and then gave him a towel. Arthur was not about to turn down another shower, and gratefully took the towel and clothing, before locking himself in the bathroom and stripping.

After a week and a half of cold showers, the hot water felt amazing on his skin. He grabbed the soap and cleaned himself, not forgetting behind his ears or between his legs, then washed his hair, liking how this time it seemed to glow. After his shower, Arthur dried himself, appreciating the shower much more this time around, and put on the pyjamas that felt unnaturally soft and warm.

When he opened the door, Alfred was waiting on the bed, towel on his lap. He looked up as Arthur opened the door and smiled in a kind of dopey way.

"Finished I take it?" He said as he stood, though it was kind of obvious he had. "I got a new magazine, if you're interested." Arthur only nodded as he watched Alfred walk over to the bathroom and close the door.

Even with the proposition of a 'new magazine' Arthur found he was more than content to look at the photos on the wall, which had increased by three.

The first new picture was one of the girl again. She was smiling broadly, the smile reminded Arthur somewhat of Alfred's grin, but hers was more delicate. She was sitting on the porch of a large house but it held no qualities of luxury or wealth as this house did. It looked simple; wooden boards covered it, all painted white. In the corner she was standing in however, was a large yellow flower painted onto the wood. When he looked closer, Arthur realised that she had yellow paint on her clothing and a paintbrush in her left hand, which meant that she had just painted the flower.

In the next photo Arthur became a little confused. It looked as thought part of the photo had been cut off as the man who resembled Alfred stood on the right, the girl in the middle and, although it wasn't all there, a hand that was distinctively a woman's hand sat on the girls shoulder, but there was no body to speak of. It was painfully obvious that the woman, who ever she was, had been cut out of the picture for a reason; probably a very bad one. Upon closer inspection, the girl looked slightly different. Her eyes seemed almost hollow, with dark rings under them indicating lack of sleep. Even the man, whom Arthur assumed was her father, appeared more exhausted the closer he looked. The cheerfulness of the photo mislead the viewer to believe that they were very happy, but Arthur's mind began to comprehend the melancholy undertones of the photo, even if they hadn't meant to show it.

The third and last photo was of someone new. She looked like a kind older lady with soft blue eyes and the same dirty blonde hair that Alfred and the other man shared. It fell to just below her shoulders and was hidden underneath a big sun hat. She looked thin, unhealthily so, making the dress she was wearing, while a lovely colour and design, hang off her frame in a way that it wasn't supposed to. She stood strong though, and even in the photo, Arthur could see similarities between her and Alfred. 'This must be his mother.' Arthur decided, lightly touching the picture frame with his fingertips.

The door clicked behind him and Arthur smiled up at him as Alfred stepped through the door, face slightly flush and water clinging to his hair. Alfred looked from him to the photos that he was standing next to, pausing as though thinking for a moment before continuing over to the bed.

"Are you curious?" He asked. Arthur blushed and nodded, moving out the way as Alfred put his glasses on the bedside table. "That woman," He gave a small nod of his head in the direction of the last photo. "Is my mum." Arthur made a small 'ah' sound. So, he had been right.

"The guy who looks like me is my twin, Matthew and the girl is his daughter, Mathilde."

"They are good photos." Arthur said, looking over them once more. Alfred sent him a lopsided smirk and turned away from the photos.

"Thanks, I took them… Well except for that one with me in it, mum took that." Arthur nodded again and turned around as well, moving to the opposite side of the bed. Alfred turned off the lights as Arthur made himself comfortable under the covers; loving the feeling of warmth and invulnerability it gave him. Alfred joined him moments later, snuggling under the covers and moving over to his side.

Arthur turned so that they were facing each other, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark. A warm arm wormed its way around his waist, puling him closer so that he could feel the body heat radiating off Alfred's skin. Not that Arthur minded, in fact, he only wanted to be closer to this man. His breath came out steady, in his opinion, even when he could feel Alfred's own breath above him. He would handle this with dignity.

The first kiss was placed against his temple, the second his nose and the third his lips. The soft, yet slightly chapped lips pressed against Arthur's but they did not push him for more. The pure and innocent kisses kept coming as Alfred continued around his face, before returning to his lips though this time Arthur lightly kissed back. He was frightened that just by pure instinct from his work, he might push Alfred too far and ruin the gentle atmosphere, the feeling of tender loving care that appeared when ever Arthur lay with Alfred. Even the first time he had felt it, like nothing else he had ever encountered.

He felt Alfred hesitate when he kissed him back, but the uncertainty swiftly passed and he kissed back just as affectionately, if not more. 'This is something I've wanted more then anything I've ever had before.' Arthur thought as the sentimental kisses lulled him into a state of languidness till he once again fell asleep in Alfred's warm arms.

The late afternoon sun shone harshly through the windows and directly into Arthur's eyes, causing him to groan and roll over. It was then that his mind began to become aware of his surroundings.

It appeared that the same situation had happed again and he had woken up late in Alfred's bed, while the other man had vanished off to work. Arthur lazily looked over at the clock that read five twenty-three pm. He had woken up somewhat earlier than last time, but only by an hour. The space beside him felt cold and empty and he couldn't help but feel disappointed that he couldn't wake up with Alfred still holding him as he had last night. He could still feel the muscular arm holding him tight, like he was the most important person in the world. He missed that feeling.

Arthur, following the routine that seemed to be appearing, wandered drowsily into the kitchen to find a similar note to last time.

'_Dear Arthur,_

_Thank you for keeping me company and I'm sorry I will probably not be there when you wake up. _

_I left your money on your clothes again and there is Sheppard's pie in the fridge. Help yourself! _

_Alfred.'_

Arthur eagerly opened the fridge and was delighted to see one of his all-time favourite meals sitting on a plate with the 'eat me' note on top. It felt like an eternity for the microwave to cook it and even before the smell reached him, Arthur found himself salivating just at the mere thought of being able to eat Sheppard's pie again. When the microwave finally beeped, Arthur didn't waste time taking it out and digging into the hot meal.

His eyes watered as he ate too much and it was too hot for his mouth. He was glad Alfred wasn't there at that moment so he wouldn't see the Brit fanning his open mouth in an attempt to cool the food in his mouth down. Apart from burning his mouth slightly, Arthur thoroughly enjoyed the pie and even went as far as to lick the plate clean. It was worth every lick to make sure he didn't miss a single crumb.

By the time Arthur finished, it was 5:33 pm and he was reluctant to leave the nicely furnished house without saying good-bye to Alfred, also, he wasn't entirely sure how to get back to his apartment from here. He placed the clean plate in the steel sink with a loud clank, before deciding to look around the house. He wouldn't touch anything, just look. He was not a thief, no way.

As he wandered, he noticed the rest of the house was as lifeless as the kitchen, bedroom and hallway. The only thing that seemed to give the house any personal flavour were a series of amazing photos that littered the walls, ranging from flowers and trees to people having fun, mainly the three people that Arthur had seen in Alfred's bedroom. He lazily ran a hand across a tabletop and pulled it away in disgust to find it absolutely covered in dust. He may be living in one of the most dingy apartments around, but he had at least kept his rooms clean… Ish.

Without any reservations, Arthur began his search for a closet and in the closet in found a vacuum, dustpan and brush and several different cleaning sprays. The bottles were full to the brim, suggesting that Alfred had never used them.

He commenced with the cleaning by dusting, wiping and down all the surfaces, making sure that after they were dusted, he cleaned them with a 'lemon fresh' spray for shine and smell. With that first task done, he went about vacuuming, making sure to get everywhere, even under the couches neat freak that he was.

With his mind occupied in his cleaning task, he didn't hear the front door open above the noise of the vacuum cleaner. At least, not until he heard voices.

Alfred stood in the opening of the living room and beside him stood a very similar man. Arthur paused, turning off the vacuum, a growing sense of dread developing in his stomach. Alfred didn't look worried but more, confused, as he eyed up the vacuum cleaner in his hands. However, the man standing beside him, looked exactly like Mathew from the photos.

Mathew's tired appearance hadn't changed just because he was here in person; in fact, he looked a lot worse than in the photos. His clothes looked simple in comparison to Alfred's. A red, hooded jacket seemed to cover most of him, making him look like a child. He wore faded blue jeans on his legs and plain black sneakers on his feet. His hair, while the same colour as Alfred's appeared to be duller. Ha gazed at Arthur, with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

"I-I'm paying you back for the Sheppard's pie… It's… Just manors r-really." Arthur answered meekly, feeling more and more nervous under the twins pressing gaze. Mathew turned to Alfred and gave him a long, hard look.

"I, uh, A-Arthur come here would you?" Arthur leant the vacuum against the wall and walked over, Mathew's violet eyes followed him all the way. Alfred slipped his hands around Arthur's shoulder's and squeezed them, smiling as he did so. "Mattie, this is Arthur, Arthur, this is Mathew."

"P-please to meet you I'm sure." Arthur panicked and stuck out his hand for the other to shake. Mathew wasn't as easy going as his brother and took a while before lifting his hand to meet Arthur's.

"Like wise." He answered with what sounded like a strained voice; Arthur was sure that he did not meant it. Alfred laughed loudly; putting on a personality that Arthur had only briefly glanced when he first came back to the man's house.

"Well, I'll take Arthur home now kay? Mattie just put your stuff in the spare room." Mathew nodded and picked up two small bags that Arthur hadn't noticed, while Arthur's hand was grabbed and he was tugged along, back to Alfred's room so he could change.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled once they were alone, feeling that maybe he should have left earlier. Alfred had been rubbing his temples between his fingers while, Arthur spoke and once he finished he turned back to the prostitute.

"No, no, seriously don't worry about it, Mattie, he's just… He's just against relationships of any kind." He said, running his fingers through his hair. Arthur blinked, eyes widening at the comment.

"R-relationship? Is that what you called it?" He felt stunned but at the same time, he felt happy. That was what he wanted yes? A relationship with Alfred, a kind and gentle man, so he could take him away from his shattered life?

"I called us… 'Fuck buddies' so he wouldn't get suspicious about your real job."

The feeling of happiness dropped like a stone in Arthur's stomach, at that connotation but he smiled anyways, even nodding his head to mask his true feelings.

"Yes, yes of course, that's a reasonable idea…" He replied, leaving Alfred to go change into his street clothes in the bathroom.

While he changed he glanced at himself in the mirror. The person he saw staring back at him with the lifeless and dull green eyes, scrawny figure and who looked like even though he had showered the night before, needed at last ten more just to get the dirt out of his skin. He did not want to be this person any more. He lightly touched the bruise on his cheek which was at it's peak of colour, and he wondered for a moment what Mathew thought when he saw it.

He put the money in his pocket, same amount, and walked out of the bathroom feeling positively miserable about his self. Alfred had been sitting on his bed, a pullover sweatshirt with the letters 'U.S.A' printed in bold letters across them, sat on his lap. When Arthur emerged from changing, the sweatshirt was given to him. He did not need an explanation on why he was to wear it. If they were to keep Alfred's story of them being fuck buddies then he couldn't be seen in his 'work clothes'.

Mathew wasn't around by the time Arthur was ready to go, so Alfred yelled 'see you later!' loudly through the halls of the now not-so-empty house. They hopped into his car and were driving off back to Arthur's home, just as they had over a week ago. It was almost the same quiet atmosphere, tainted with the sudden awkwardness of being seen in Alfred's house by his brother. He curled and uncurled his fingers as he sat next to Alfred, the man whom he was becoming too attached to and wished with all his heart that the car ride would never end.

...

A/N:

Sorry! I meant to get this up yesterday but then I got called into work and I have a driving assessment today so I needed sleep.

Hope you like! : D

R&R~


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Should I warn you? Nah you'll find out.

Another week had passed and Arthur had seen neither hide nor tail of Francis, or Alfred and he was starting to show signs of loneliness and nicotine cravings. He had very little money left, from what he could tell, but he had enough instant noodles and canned food to last him a while, so he wasn't overly fussed about food. But cigarettes! What he wouldn't give to have Francis over, just to blow that dammed smoke in his face again, so he could inhale it's poisons into his body and rid himself of this horrible feeling!

He fidgeted in his uncomfortable bed for a while longer, before sitting up and making a decision. He had to rid himself of the cravings; he HAD to. As he stumbled into the kitchen and opened a small tin of noodles and tomato sauce to eat, he tried to recall the sign that he had seen about how to quit.

By the time he had eaten halfway through the can, he remembered. Nicotine patches. They were sold at chemists and such, so he could easily find them, but could he afford them? His eyes wandered to the cupboard where he hid his money, but he didn't move. He knew he might have enough, but then what if he got sick and didn't have money to buy medicine with? What if he ran out of food before he could make more money? Those thoughts frightened him more the he would ever let on, so he made the decision to wait until he had finished another job, and then he would buy them.

Arthur was back out on the streets that very night, searching for willing men or women to pay him for sex, or anything of a sexual nature. He even wore a little more makeup, just to add more lustre to his appearance. And as the sound of footsteps approached him, he stuck out his hips a little and smiled innocently towards the stranger in the dark.

"Care for some fun luv?"

He struck lucky that night.

The man was old, about forty something, but he was well-built and paid Arthur handsomely at the end of it. Even a tip for his silence, as not only was he a high-ranking businessman, but he also had a wife and kids. Arthur knew his type, wanting sex but the wife was too busy, so instead of finding time he'd find someone who was willing, because it was all they could do in life.

One hundred and fifty big ones, Arthur smiled for the first time in a week, as he counted out the pay. Combined with the money he had at home, he would surely have enough for the patches, plus any other living expense. In fact, he was so happy that he decided to go out and celebrate.

Lunchtime the next day, with his nicotine patches safely in his jacket pocket, Arthur entered a noodle bar just off one of the main streets. It was practically empty, except for one or two other customers, but Arthur was not fooled by the poor interior or lack of people. The food served there was among the most delicious he had ever had. The only problem was he didn't get along too well with the cook…

"Ah, hello Arthur… I'm afraid we can't give you any more free handouts." A small Asian boy said, though his words sounded anxious, his expression remained calm. Arthur smiled back at him and held a note up to show the boy, who without a moment's hesitation replied with.

"Would you like a seat inside or outside?"

Arthur sat inside with a view of the street while he waited for his meal. It wasn't a particular cloudy day, nor was it sunny, but somewhere in between where the weather can't make up its mind. Three more customers walked in while he waited, two leaving with take away pre-made food, while one waited for a freshly cooked meal. The same boy walked up to him with a large bowl of noodles and soup, mixed in amongst it was chicken and prawns and various vegetables. If he didn't gain weight from eating this, then he would be disappointed.

After the second person was served, the cook casually made their way over to Arthur, sitting next to him and staring out the window.

"So Arthur, I haven't seen you in a while aru." The man spoke to him in a heavy Chinese accent.

Arthur snorted and shoved a spoonful of noodles and vegetables into his mouth, letting himself enjoy the intense flavours before answering the man.

"I've been busy." He stated simply. The Chinese man left it at that and returned to looking out the window with Arthur. After about ten minutes he spoke again.

"Do you still… ?" Arthur snorted as he chewed on a prawn.

"Yes Yao, I still sell my body for money, though business is slow lately." The Chinese man, Yao, nodded again, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Arthur ignored him and slurped down the rest of his soup. The meal had been beyond delicious; it even bested the food Alfred had left out for him, but this was food made in a restaurant so he was excused. Any food Alfred made was far better quality then his own canned food.

The conversation died after that and Yao eventually left him alone to return to the kitchen, with a sort of saddened smile. Arthur remained for another half an hour after he finished, for the warmth the restaurant gave him, before getting up to leave. He waved to the boy and sent a nod to Yao when he peered out of the kitchen and headed on his way.

Most days Arthur spent in his apartment reading second hand books, mostly cheesy romance ones or even an odd book about knitting. Then when night fell, he donned his skimpy outfit and took to the streets for work. He had a surprisingly good week in terms of work. Three nights with decent pay and just the usual married men and one woman. He didn't usually get too many women, but this one liked to feel dominant to men. He could still feel the cold biting metal of the handcuffs on his wrists, as he flicked the yellow page of his book.

Reading was starting to boost Arthur's mood day by day, and he could feel small bits of his time in school coming back to him. Information he thought that he had forgotten when he began to sell his body on the street. Also that amazing feeling of satisfaction he got whenever he finished a book, like he had truly accomplished something.

Another week passed, making it two weeks since had had seen Alfred and over three weeks since he had last seen Francis. The disappearance of Francis had sparked his curiosity, but he knew the man to come and go for long periods of time, either when he was hiding from the police at a safe house, or busy making more product at someone else's house. But it was the fact that he hadn't been contacted, not even once to be argued with, that made him worried.

It was another two days before Arthur was worried enough to go to the buildings landlord and ask him to check it out. He was wearing tattered denim shorts and the sweatshirt that Alfred had given him, as he followed the old man up the stairs back to where Francis' and his apartments were. After a minute of trying out keys, the landlord found the right one and they were inside.

The landlord was the first one in, sniffing his nose in disgust at the odd smell that greeted them. Arthur followed behind him closely, peeking around the apartment at his friend/enemies belongings. Francis' apartment was something between Alfred's apartment and Arthur's apartment as it contained personal belongings but it was clean, unlike his own lodgings.

He glanced around at the photos, Francis posing with ladies, Francis posing with men, Francis posing… Ok, the guy liked him self a lot. Arthur noticed one photo of him on the mantle. It was a candid photo of him a few years ago, when he had first moved into the room across from Francis… When he had first started his new horrible life... He was sitting by the window with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and he appeared content in the late afternoon sun. But it begged the question of how had Francis gotten a photo of him in the first place? Well maybe that would be answered when they found the bastard.

The landlord had gone to the bedroom to make sure he wasn't just sleeping, and then headed over to the bathroom. Arthur moved further into the apartment, making his way to the kitchen and dining room. He realised, with a sense of revulsion that the closer he got to the kitchen, the worse the smell became. It got to the point where he had to use Alfred's sweatshirt to cover his mouth and nose.

As Arthur stepped around the wall and into the kitchen, a sudden wave of nausea hit him, as the smell here was worse then anywhere else in the house. Though the scene he saw before him caused all hatred of the smell to go out the window as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

Francis lay slumped on the floor against the cabinets, his head lolled to one side, his neck exposed but that wasn't the shocking part. His chest, his clothes that he prided himself on above all else, was covered in blood. Arthur vaguely heard a scream in the distance, getting louder before he realised he was the one screaming. He stumbled back against the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, gasping and panting as panic started to over take his body.

The landlord appeared from nowhere, yelling something along the lines of 'oh fuck!' but Arthur wasn't paying attention to him. His mind shrieked at him to look away, but he couldn't move his body to do so. He felt numb. Completely and utterly numb, as his only true friend lay dead across the room from him. His was truly a sad existence.

The police came, asking questions, getting frustrated, taking photos, cleaning up the crime scene. Yes… That was right, it was no longer Francis's home, it was now a crime scene. Arthur sat in the hall; the police had long since given up questioning him in his withdrawn state, and had moved on to the landlord and his neighbours. The police remained there for hours, tagging and taking things from his apartment, and then finally they wrapped up the body, and took it downstairs.

"We're going to have to bring you in with us for more questioning." A gruff looking policeman told him. Arthur didn't remember answering verbally, but he faintly remembered nodding his head in response and accepting a hand to stand up.

The trip to the police station felt like a blur to him. He hadn't noticed the stares he had received as they walked down and out of the apartment building, he hadn't noticed the world as it rushed past the police car, and he hadn't noticed the hustle and bustle of the police station, all a buzz due to a new murder case. Arthur was placed into a dark room, lit only by a single florescent light hanging above him. He remained still, staring off into space until the door opened and a man stepped through.

The man had slicked back white hair and red eyes that casually peered around the room, his eyes resting on Arthur before widening briefly. He licked his lips and sauntered over to the table in the middle of the room, muttering something that sounded like 'eyebrows' before sitting down on the chair across from Arthur. The chair creaked under his weight, but Arthur guessed they were old from the stains he had seen on his own chair before he sat down. When he looked up he found the man staring back at him, and in the back of his mind he started to register that he had met this man before… But it seemed so long ago.

"So," The man began, tapping his fingers on the table. "You knew this… Francis Bonnefoy… Well? Would you say?" Arthur chewed his lip and looked down at his feet. There were quite filthy actually, dirt caked under his toenails and between the toes themselves.

"Well?"

"Ye-yeah…" Arthur finally got out. His first words in what felt like hours. Who knew? It might have been hours and he would not have realised.

"How… Well, did you two know each other?" Arthur snorted, bringing his legs up and hugging them to his chest.

Not... Not all that well." He answered. The officer raised his eyebrow and jotted something down on a piece of paper.

"Then why were you asking after his wellbeing? Are you a nosy neighbour? That would make sense but given the apartments you live in, also the fact that he owns a photo of you and displays it gives me the impression that you are more… Then just people who live across from each other." Arthur frowned at the officer as the man smirked back at him.

"Were you perhaps, secret lovers? Casual… Fuck buddies?" Arthur scowled and clenched at his legs tighter.

"No." He answered curtly. The shock of seeing his friend may have still been in his system, but hearing that made him feel unfaithful to Alfred. Even though they weren't even dating… Or having sex… Honestly, he had nothing to feel indignant about. He was a prostitute, and it was blatantly obvious.

"Huh…" The man smiled half-heartedly at Arthur before writing something else down. "Would you like a… Coffee? Tea? Water maybe?" He asked, gesturing with his hand towards him.

Arthur had the distinct feeling that he was trying to come up with an excuse to leave the room, and discus his answers with the other policemen but he did not have much more to say to him, so he spared the officer by answering-

"Tea, please."

-And watched him leave with another small smile, the door once again locking him into the confined space. Arthur let out a long sigh, his shoulders drooped and his head went back to resting on his knees. He felt somewhat thankful to the officer. The questions had woken him from his daze, letting his mind slip back into reality as the shock slowly left his body, and the realisation of just how big what had happened was started to seep in.

As his mind began to process everything that had occurred in the last few hours, consequences started to make themselves apparent. Francis was a drug dealer. If word got out that Francis was dead, and that he was the only known friend and/or closet person to the French man, then he knew for certain that he would become a target of Francis' suppliers. Or the people he supplied the drugs to… Arthur shuddered and hugged his knees tighter.

The situation was starting to move beyond anything he was used to. Death, drugs, murder, Arthur had made sure his nose stayed clean of any of them, and yet here he was stuck in the middle of three things he tried to avoid most. This was the lowest of the low; there was no way he could have slipped any lower down in life.

The door clicked open again, revealing two new officers. The smaller one, a woman with an ill-tempered scowl much like his own, carried a Styrofoam cup over to him, placing it on the table before him and then moving back to sit down opposite. The taller officer, a rather tan looking man smiled from his position leaning against the wall by the door. Arthur mumbled 'thanks' under his breath as he clasped the cup in his hands, his fingers curling tighter around it, desperate for the warmth.

"Now then." The woman began, glaring pointedly at him. "I'm Officer Vargas and this is Officer Carrendo." When mentioned, the other man nodded at Arthur. "And we believe that you're not telling us everything." Arthur frowned into his tea, taking a sip and then putting the cup down. The tea tasted awful.

"I've told you all I know." Arthur sighed.

He was beginning to feel fatigue set in, as the adrenaline fuelling his shock wore off. Officer Vargas scowled deeper, her eyebrows knitting together, her mouth almost forming a pout, as though she did not like what she heard. Though he supposed he wasn't giving her helpful answers.

"You don't believe that anymore then we do!" She snapped, pounding her hands on the table, causing Arthur and Officer Carrendo to jump.

"Ah, what she mean's amigo, is that we want to know about Francis, not about the murder." The male officer jumped in, much to Officer Vargas' annoyance.

"Oi! Tomato bastard! This is MY interrogation! Not yours!" She said brusquely, turning away from Arthur to send her full wrath upon Officer Carrendo. The latter put his hands up defensively, and laughed, leaving Arthur to believe that his interrogation was the biggest waste of anyone's time.

While they argued across from him, Arthur put his legs back down on the floor and watched his toes, bored. It wasn't until the albino officer came back in to break them up, did Arthur start to pay attention. Officer Vargas was sent out, leaving Arthur alone with the two men.

"So…" The albino started.

"Francis was a perv." Arthur said simply, catching both men off guard. "He liked to sleep around." The two exchanged a glance.

"So, maybe this was the work of a jealous lover? Maybe he messed with someone's wife?"

"No, he would never touch a married woman... Or man." Arthur snorted. For a man with such little respect for anyone other then his self, he had some decent morals. Always going on about love and how fabulous it was.

"He always thought of himself as better than other's…" He continued, not bothering to make sure the officer's were writing what he was saying down. "He was snooty like that… Heh, it seemed kind of pointless to be snooty in the place we lived… But he was… Good? Despite all his shortcomings he took care of me, lent me money when I needed it and never asked for me to pay him back… I guess he made a lot on the side of being a bar tender…"

The first officer leaned forward, making Arthur start to feel uncomfortable.

"What did he do? How did he make extra cash?" He questioned, his red pink eyes bore into Arthur's.

A dilemma entered Arthur's mind. If he told the officer's about Francis doing the drugs, then he could perhaps get protection, or go home. Didn't they have a witness protection programme? He didn't actually know anything other than the fact that Francis distributed them. He didn't know where, when or to whom. He didn't know who gave the drugs to Francis in the first place! He only knew that's what he did.

On the other hand, if he didn't tell them, then he would no doubt be stuck in the small grey room, for countless more hours with idiots who seemed to know less about what they were doing, then they did about the murder. There was also a possibility that whom ever had killed Francis would come for him, and the police would have no clue. He chewed his lip and looked down at the floor as he weighed the options in his mind. In the end he went with option one.

"Francis… Sold drugs." The moment he said this, the two officers came alive with questions.

"What kind were they?"

"Do you have the name of his suppliers?"

"Where were they sold? Park? Alley way?"

"Any names of recent clients?"

"Did you ever by them yourself?"

"Did Francis ever use them? Was he behind in payment maybe?"

Arthur felt his heart rate speed up and ended up yelling

"I don't know!" The two officers paused, seeming to realise that they had frightened a witness. Arthur licked his lips and once again, brought his legs up to hug. "All I know… Is that he sold drugs, I don't know where, I don't know to whom, I don't know who gave them to him and I don't know who bought them from him. I don't know what kind they were and no, neither Francis nor I used them… He said it was a rule to never use what you sell."

After his outburst, Arthur was only at the police station for another hour. But instead of being cooped up in the interrogation room like a suspect, he was seated outside in the bustling office, signing papers, giving statement's, signing more papers and then finally, after what felt like the most longest day in his life, Arthur was allowed to go home.

He wasn't given the option of a lift home, as the department was busy using the new information he had given them to chase up leads. One young and excited officer had told him as he got him to sign his millionth piece of paper, that this case could make or break their team so it was important! Good to know that they genuinely wanted to catch Francis' killer, Arthur had thought sarcastically.

Arthur huffed angrily as he commenced his long walk back home, in nothing but a sweatshirt and shorts. His feet began to sting after a while of walking on gravel, and hard concrete but he pressed on till the streets became familiar, and his apartment grew closer. It wasn't until he was standing out side the building, that he realised that he did not want to go up to his room. Just the thought of going up and seeing Francis' room, covered in police tape, was starting to make him feel ill all over again.

The sun had started to set, it's orange glow somewhat melancholic, given the circumstances. Francis had always believed sunsets to be the most romantic time of the day.

It was a struggle, to walk back up the stairs, down the hall and to stop in front of his own door, doing his best not to turn to Francis' door no matter how much he wanted to. It was as if he wanted to confirm the day's activities, to tell him self that it really did happen and that this wasn't just some crazy, messed up dream.

The door loomed forlornly behind him in his mind as his natural human curiosity reared its head. His hands were shaking as he felt his foot start to pivot on the cold wooden floor. Soon his other foot joined it and when he realised he was half way to looking, he shut his eyes tight. Maybe, if he prayed hard enough, he would wake up any second with Francis blowing smoke in his face.

Even without looking, Arthur could tell that he was facing the door. It hid a world that he hadn't known existed until today, and that world had been created and destroyed in a matter of minutes. With a deep breath, filling his lungs to capacity, Arthur squirmed on his side of the hall and with one last sigh; he gradually let his eyelids slide open.

The door stood still, silent and black in the evening. The old paint peeling off at the edges, very much like Arthur's own door. Across the doorway, from wall to wall was police tape, the usual 'do not cross' printed repeatedly in bold black letters. Arthur's hand brushed the tape as he stepped closer, placing his fingers gingerly on the door behind the tape. The wood felt damp, cold and dead under his skin; sending chills up his spin, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut again.

He probably looked a sight; tired with bags under his eyes, which were shut tight while he gently pushed against the door behind bright yellow police tape. He could only imagine what Francis-

"Fuck." Arthur pushed away from the door, wrestling with his key and lock, before shoving his way into his apartment and locking it behind him. His back hit the door, pressing against it as he used it for support. Hot tears slithered down his cheeks and dripped onto Alfred's sweatshirt, leaving small dark grey patches.

"F-fucking French twat," Arthur chocked as the sobs began to build up. "Never thought I'd e-ever cry for h-him…"

Arthur stumbled through his apartment and collapsed on his bed. His eyelids now heavy, and his head sore from crying, but he could not stop. The tears fell, soaking his pillow in small patches. In fact, he didn't remember stopping before his world turned black, as the fatigue dragged his body into a restless and nightmare filled sleep. It could almost be considered a good thing, as this way he didn't hear the footsteps outside, or the voices or even the ripping of police tape. He remained oblivious in his dreams to the indecencies going on just out side his apartment.

The next morning Arthur woke to yelling, loud voices and harsh words being said outside in the hall. In his half awake, half asleep state he could vaguely make out the voice of the albino man that had interrogated him yesterday, but he didn't recognise the others. They were arguing about something to do with Francis' apartment. Something about how someone had ransacked the place, destroying everything. Arthur sat up at that bit of information.

Was his theory right? Were the people Francis sold for or to looking for what ever he hadn't sold? Were they looking for Francis himself? Arthur dragged himself out of bed, and headed into his bathroom, splashing water on his face and then, tentatively peering into the dirt covered mirror. His eyes were red and puffy, meaning he had probably been crying most of the night. His hair stood pointing in every direction, and his clothes were wrinkled from where he had lay on the. In short, he looked very dishevelled, even for him.

The water had just started to boil, hissing at him from the stove when a knock sounded at his door. Honestly, Arthur had been expecting it since he woke up this morning. Hell, he believed that they would be back the next day to question him again, anyways and this was just the perfect excuse. He let them wait, pouring the hot water into his cup of instant noodles, and covering it back up before walking over to the door to open it for the officers. The knocking had become more insistent the longer he took.

Arthur opened the door to a very livid looking police officer, tapping his foot hurriedly against the floor. He shot Arthur a disgruntled look but refrained from bursting out with anything unprofessional.

"Good, you're home." The albino officer said through clenched teeth. Arthur raised an eyebrow and leaned against his door

"You know, I think I liked it better when you were drunk and stumbling around on the streets." He replied snidely. The officer blushed, opening and closing his mouth like a fish while the men behind him stifled laughter behind their hands.

"S-so it was you!" He pointed an accusing finger at Arthur who frowned and pushed it away.

"So what if it was? What do you want? You're interrupting my breakfast." The officer grumbled to himself in what Arthur thought sounded like German, and moved out of the way. Arthur looked across the hall and was confused as at first, all he could see was Francis's door, then the obvious clue appeared. The police tape had been ripped.

"We arrived here this morning for a secondary search, for drugs of any kind, no matter how well it's packaged, some of it will have escaped into the room, but when we arrived, the tape was ripped and the door had clearly been opened." The albino officer turned back from the door to Arthur. "And seeing as you live right across, we came to ask you whether you went in there, or whether you heard something last night."

Arthur continued to look at the door as he answered. Who would go through a dead man's apartment? Unless they were looking for something…

"I didn't hear anything and I didn't do anything." He uttered, eyes still concentrating on the door, a slight anger boiling in his stomach at the thought of someone disrespecting Francis's apartment like that. He only hoped that he wouldn't get dragged into this mess any more then he had been.

The police searched the apartment, and while they found traces of drugs, they didn't find any stash of drugs, or even any money, no matter where they looked. They left late in the afternoon, taking their various equipment and sniffer dogs with them, their demeanour shrouded in disappointment. After they left, the apartment felt so much quieter, that Arthur found it almost eerie, though he had lived with that silence for a good portion of his life. He stood across from Francis's door, watching it intently and feeling increasingly guilty that the last thing he had ever said to the frog was accusing him of murder. Although he had apologised, Francis had never formally accepted it, so he would never know if Francis and he were still friends or whether he had died thinking Arthur hated him.

That evening Arthur left the apartment, intent on continuing his work and trying to keep up his lifestyle, despite the shock from yesterday. Death was a more easily accepted concept in his neighbourhood, and though Francis had actually been a close personal friend (yes, he no longer referred to Francis as an enemy) he still knew that to stop now meant that he would lose and he had to keep going. For his sake and he was sure Francis would say the same thing should he have still been there.

In fact, it had only been two hours before he found a taker, or rather, the man found him…

Arthur whined softly, desperately trying to keep in a loud whimper as the man pushed his head harder into the brick wall, his nails digging into his skin impossibly hard. Arthur didn't like that he knew there would be marks there in the morning. The man let out an animalistic growl as he thrust in harder, pushing Arthur more forcefully into the wall. He had to say, the position wasn't ideal but it wasn't often he found clients who wanted, and in fact asked to do it then and there. It saved time for both of them and meant that Arthur felt better in his home territory. But there was something odd about the man that he couldn't place his finger on.

"Fuckin' slut!" He grunted, slamming his length into Arthur's hole faster, ignoring the small whimpers of pain as his hand kept Arthur's head pinned to the wall, while the other hand was griping harshly onto his waist. The man had begun to pant, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he neared his limit. Arthur could feel it, soon this would be over, he would get paid, the man would be relieved and everybody would be happy. Or would have been except the man paused, even when Arthur could tell he was so close.

"W-what, why did you…?" Arthur mumbled, wincing as the man moved while still inside of him. He felt hot breath against his cheek by his ear; the man then emitted a breathy chuckle, sounding every bit as sinister as the devil himself.

"Arthur Kirkland," The man breathed, smirking into his skin as he felt Arthur tense. "Go back to your apartment and you're as good as dead."

"Wha-" Before Arthur could even respond, the man thrust up into him, using his hands to pull Arthur down onto his member at the same time causing Arthur to scream out in pain, while the man groaned loudly and came inside of him. He pulled his hands away, laughing as Arthur dropped to the ground in pain.

"Keep that in mind ok fucker?" Then he pissed on him. Arthur shuddered as the man's urine soaked his top and ran down his skin. This had to be the worst he had ever gotten treated, he thought miserably as he waited submissively for the man to stop.

Eventually he did, for it wasn't possible to pee for too long. After he finished he kicked Arthur in the back and dropped notes down near his head.

"That's your pay slut, hope you enjoyed it!" The sound of his zip being redone then the crunch of his footsteps on the ground alerted Arthur to the very relieving fact that he was gone. But his words were not forgotten.

'Go back to your apartment and you're as good as dead' Arthur thought bitterly, vaguely wondering how his life could possibly get any lower then being pissed on by some stranger who threatened his wellbeing! Probably another hour had passed before Arthur found the strength he needed to pull up his pants and collect his money. To add insult to injury, the man had paid him twenty dollars in fiver dollar notes… Arthur didn't feel much like being on the street after that.

He began the depressing walk back to his apartment, wondering if the mans threat was nothing but a bluff as he touched his cheek, a small amount of blood running down his forehead from where he had been shoved against the wall. It wasn't until he reached the apartment building, and saw the lights on in his apartment that he commenced panicking.

There were people in his apartment. His whole life was in there! If he couldn't go back then where would he go? Where? His nicotine patches, his instant noodles, his books… Even Alfred's sweatshirt… It was all so precious to him even though it wasn't much.

"Tonight is shit." He decided, turning heel to find a park to sleep in for the night. Hopefully they would be gone by the morning.

Arthur shivered as he sat alone on the wooden bench in the park. It was very late by now, and the nightlife of the park was completely awake. Twice he had had disgusting smelling men walk up to him asking for money, even when he didn't look much better off then he and he had ended up giving them the money the man had thrown at him earlier, a small sick feeling of satisfaction at knowing that even though he had hit rock bottom, at least there were people out there lower then he.

It was very early in the morning when he was shaken awake, two hands on his shoulders squeezing and moving him. Arthur blinked blearily up at the figure, obscurely realising that he had fallen asleep in a park while still sitting up. At first the figure was unclear so he mumbled the first name that came to him.

"A-Alfred?"

The figure snorted and stepped back.

"Guess again eyebrows." The harsh German accent cut through Arthur's foggy mind and woke him up fully.

"You… The albino officer." He frowned, before checking his body quickly to make everything was still in one piece.

"Seriously? You never got my name? It's Gilbert." The man, Gilbert, smirked, as he looked Arthur up and down. "Man you look horrible, and smell even worse!"

He chuckled as he sat down next to Arthur. Said British man frowned harder, tentatively bending his head a little down to his chest and sniffing, pulling back a moment later in disgust. God, why did this happen to him?

"Fuck you," He seethed, turning to glare directly at Gilbert. "Why are you bothering me this early again? Can't you see I'm busy fucking up my bloody life?" Gilbert placed a hand over his heart, and gave a very poor performance of being hurt.

"Oh wow, and here I was actually concerned for your wellbeing! Well I guess I won't tell you who's looking for you then, seeing as, you know, you're busy with whatever." He stood and began to walk away. Arthur sharply inhaled as promising thoughts flitted to mind.

"W-wait!" He jumped up and followed the albino officer, realising that he wasn't wearing his uniform, and grabbed onto the back jumper. "Please, who's looking for me? Please tell me!" Gilbert mouth quirked upwards in an almost smirk, a single eyebrow rose.

"Oh so now it's please? Ok, well first you must thank me." He puffed out his chest and waited.

Arthur stiffened, shooting daggers at Gilbert before muttering a small 'thanks'.

"What was what? I didn't hear you say 'thank you your awesomeness!" Arthur grit his teeth and curled his fingers into a fist.

"Do you want to be punched in the face?" He threatened.

"Do you want to know who's looking for you?" Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Th-thank you, your… Awesomeness." He managed to ground out through clenched teeth. Gilbert patted him on the shoulder and laughed loudly.

"Good boy! See? That wasn't so hard!" He then manoeuvred Arthur with his arm towards a small silver car waiting by the park.

"Where are we going?" He asked confused as to why Gilbert was doing this and not just telling him.

"The station." Was the reply, and while Arthur wasn't all happy about it, at least he would be safer there than at the park.

Upon arrival, there was a woman waiting for them, a blanket in one hand a cup in the other. Her brown hair was cropped short to just above her shoulders, her hair curled on one side of her head. Her kind forest green eyes twinkled as she handed the blanket to Arthur, the moment he got out of the car, and gave him the tea once he had the blanket settled on his shoulders. The blanket was a little itchy but it was warm, and it covered him, hiding his nightly attire, which had gone through a little too much the night before.

Gilbert was on his phone the moment they stepped into the actual station, and while he talked, the woman whom had given him the drink and blanket, lead him around to a seat in her office.

"Gilbert will be right back with you." She smiled. "And if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask." Arthur nodded and sipped the tea, pleased to find that it tasted considerably nicer this time.

As he sipped his tea and read a magazine the nice female officer had given him, a commotion started up at the door. Arthur ignored the noise, thinking that it was probably some criminal trying to escape, but the noise was coming closer and closer. Then the voices started to detangle themselves from the various other noises around the office till Arthur was sure his ears' were deceiving him.

He peered out of the office, first catching sight of Gilbert, striding triumphantly through the office while next to him, walking at a fast yet more casual rate came someone very familiar whom had been sorely missed.

"It can't be." Arthur whispered, shocked, as he stood, moving into the blondes view. The sky blue eyes swivelled to him, locking their eyes together as though by a bond no one knew existed.

"Arthur." Alfred said, his face breaking out into a relieved smile. "I've been looking for you."

...

A/N: Well this is a late christmas present! Kinda -laughs sheepishly- unfortunately, this is where the prewritten chapters stop. BUT my goal is to get the next chapter done by next week as it may or may not be the last one, either way, it's one or two chapters to go!

There are some new characters in this chapter, in case you didn't know, they are Hong Kong, China, Fem!South Italy, Spain, Denmark and Fem!New Zealand. [I missed doing this the last chapter, Belgium was the girl in the bakery]

I hope you liked it! R&R please!


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Holy crap this is way later then just two weeks, my most sincerest apologies everyone!_

...

It was a quick reunion. Arthur had barely enough time to say hello as a bag was thrust into his hands, the blanket taken from him and he was pushed out of the office by a combination of Alfred and Gilbert. "Th-thank you!" He had managed to get out just before Gilbert left and it was just Alfred pulling him along.

The familiar sleek black car was waiting patiently in the car park. It beeped and flashed its lights as Alfred unlocked it, as though to say hello to the pair as they approached. Arthur was bundled up into the front seat; seat belt strapped across his chest and the door was closed before he could question it. He turned in his seat, frowning as he saw several bags in the back of the car.

"What's going on? Where are we going?" Arthur questioned the moment Alfred stepped into the car. Alfred didn't answer until he too was buckled and they were reversing out of the car park.

"Away." Alfred offered the unsatisfying answer and Arthur felt compelled to argue but none of that should have mattered. Who cared where Alfred took him? The fact was he was with Alfred and that should have been all that mattered. But after last night's events… And the past weeks events, his still felt too raw, too emotional and Alfred always seemed to be a brief moment in his life so how did he know he wouldn't just leave him again? How could he be sure that at the end of this he would be able to keep his mind in check? Arthur wasn't too sure that if Alfred left him again the next day he wouldn't promise not to commit suicide. Hell, maybe he'll return to his apartment and get someone else to kill him instead.

Unconsciously, Arthur had started to hug the bag in his arms tighter and it was then it clicked that he had just accepted the bag and not bothered to see it's contents. He looked over at Alfred who was busy navigating the road; going what Arthur was sure was over the speed limit. Why were they in such a rush? He wondered this as his hand pulled down the zip on the bag. He gasped as two of his books fell out onto the floor of the car and he rushed to pick them up, inspecting the covers, the pages and then looking back inside the bag. They were the only two books in there, but he also spied his nicotine patches, a photo frame that contained a picture of him as a child, his worn damaged wallet, his passport and Alfred's sweatshirt. A small part of him ached as he pulled out his photo.

The child hiding amongst the flowers grinned back at him, his bright green eyes gleaming with promise for new adventures, for new experiences, for a life full of hopes and dreams where he would always be happy and safe. He let out a small chuckle.

"What is it?" Alfred inquired, half watching the road, half trying to peer down at what Arthur was laughing at. Arthur shook his head, a small smile hovering on his lips.

"It's nothing really… Well, just that when I was little, I used to believe in fairies." His smile widened to a grin. "I was such an innocent and naïve child." He chided himself as he placed the photograph back into his bag.

"… I think that's cute." Arthur blinked and turned to Alfred. The American had turned back to the road but he continued to speak. "It… I haven't known you long Arthur… And I'm sorry for this… 'This', but you know? Every time I picked you up? I-I just wanted to keep you with me. I dunno, you have this… Feeling about you, that seemed so incredibly sad, I just… I just… I wanted to make you feel happy." He finished off.

Arthur tried his best not to smile, not to grin, not to let that fluttering feeling in his stomach get the better of him but it seemed a waste that he even tried. In the back of his mind he questioned the sincerity of Alfred's words as the American had left him twice before but he let him self fall for them anyway. He couldn't stop the smile from seeping onto his face and the fluttering feeling only got worse when Alfred turned back to him, his own face a slight tinge of pink.

"Thank you." Even though Arthur whispered this, he meant it for everything Alfred had ever done for him. He felt his emotions bubble up into the two words and threaten to spill over in the form of a love confession. But he couldn't do that, lest he scare Alfred off… And here he was rescuing him too.

As the almost awkward atmosphere lifted off them, Alfred began to explain to Arthur why all this was happening.

After the police had dusted for fingerprints in France's apartment, they managed to get one print of a well-known offender named Lukas. When they brought him in for questioning, they couldn't find anything to hold him on and were forced to let him go. Alfred had then called Gilbert and asked him to find Arthur for him (at this point Alfred blushed a furious red colour) to which Gilbert did. He had brought with him Antonio, the happy Spanish cop, to help him out. When they reached his apartment building however, the landlord was panicking and babbling that three men had entered, threatening him with a knife and went upstairs.

Of course, the pair called in back up, and after a very short shouting match and a lot of scuffle, they had reprimanded the three men who had threatened the landlord, an who had broken into Arthur's apartment.

"Well Gilbert beat the shit out of the Lukas guy," Alfred chuckled darkly. Arthur blinked and frowned at the rather scary laugh. "He um, boasted about what he had… Done to you…" Alfred mumbled. Arthur felt his chest tighten as his humiliation from the night before was still haunting him. And now Alfred knew. Great.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfy… Um well yeah, then they brought them in and Gilbert asked where you were. Guy goes 'how the fuck should I know?" Alfred mocked him in a stupid voice, making Arthur smile a little. "So then Gilbert went out lookin' for yah!"

Gilbert had looked around Arthur's apartment, and then spread his search a little wider. By the time he reached the park where Arthur has taken shelter, he had been searching since four am and had been up all night. Arthur felt happiness burst in his chest. Gilbert was a good person when he wanted to be and he felt somewhat stupid for thinking mean things about him because of their first meeting. Once back at the station, Gilbert had phoned up Alfred to let him know and then here they were.

"I understand if this is all happening really fast and you're confused… But Gilbert said it would be safer for you, for a while, if you weren't in the area… So I'm taking you… Away." Alfred's hands tightened on the wheel, his blue eyes watching the road hard as if expecting it to open up any at moment.

Arthur for his part went over his options in his head though the answer was obvious. "I'll stay with you." He said simply, smiling up at Alfred who visibly relaxed in his car seat and smiled back.

"I'm glad to hear that, so fucking glad." His smile had split into a grin by now, threatening to spill into a laugh as they drove away from Arthur's home, unbeknownst to Arthur, for the last time.

The stop at Alfred's house was quick, and not what Arthur had anticipated. Alfred's thrust clothes into his arms, told him to shower and meet him in the kitchen. As Arthur had been pushed through the large white house the small amount of possessions Alfred had owned had vanished. There were no photos on the wall; there were no magazines on his bed, or any covers on it either. Arthur made sure to shower quickly, just long enough to make him smell better before picking up the clothes Alfred had given him.

A dark blue singlet with a red superman symbol in the middle, a pair of faded denim pants, a belt for the pants and a white hooded jumper. They were all ridiculously too big for him (And if he had the choice would have preferred something a little more… Dressy), hence the belt, but Arthur had never smiled more when wearing someone else's clothing.

Alfred was waiting, tapping his foot impatiently as Arthur rounded the corner into the hallway. "Quickly, we don't have much time!" He ushered Arthur out back into the car and drove off.

Arthur frowned at the pace he was driving but didn't say anything. Alfred looked far too intensely at the road and occasionally the clock. It unnerved Arthur to see the other man so frustrated and tense when he was used to the casual smiles.

They had been driving for just over two hours in absolute silence. Alfred hadn't turned on the radio or even made an attempt at conversation. Without that invitation, Arthur had decided it was his place to remain quiet as well. The man beside him was obviously doing him a huge favour and he didn't want to interrupt him in his train of thought. What ever that thought might have been. After another half hour of silence however, Arthur was at his limit.

"Umm… Where, might I ask, are we going?" He murmured, turning to look at Alfred from his chair. The American's eyes flicked from the road to him and then back again.

"Canada." He answered.

"Canada?" Arthur echoed. "Why there?"

"My brother lives there."

"Ah."

And the conversation was once again hushed for another hour. At least Arthur was now aware of where they were heading. Though that they were heading to Canada had surprised Arthur. He had expected to be taken away from his home but not from the country.

An hour later saw them nearing the boarder and Arthur's anxiety levels peaked. They would have to provide identification and answer questions by authorities. This prospect made him squirm uncomfortably in his seat, catching Alfred's attention again. A warm hand rested on his leg, first startling the smaller man before reassuring him.

"Don't worry, we made it in time." He smiled, his bright grin beaming as he pressed on the break, slowing the car down to a stop in front of a red and white painted bar. Alfred removed his hand from Arthur's leg in favour of putting the car in park and fishing around the compartment under the dashboard for his car's registration. "Hey, grab your passport out for me?" Alfred asked absently as he grabbed his own.

"S-sure." Arthur fished around in the bag of his belongings till he found the small book and passed it to Alfred. Just in time as a man in uniform holding a clipboard walked up and tapped on their window. Alfred pressed the window button on the armrest and waited while the glass was lowered all the way done.

"Hey Gareth." He smiled. Gareth smiled back and nodded to Arthur.

"Hey Al, it's been a while since you've been home! The boys miss you!" He grinned, pulling a pen out of his pocket and clicking it open.

"Yeah I know," He shrugged and flashed his friend a good old boy smile. "I promise to go out with you guys while I'm back."

"Great! I'll let them know the poker king's home!" The pair laughed and nudged each other through the open window. Arthur just sat still and watched them with mild interest. Had this been why Alfred had been so keen to get here? So that his friend would let him through without a fuss into the other country? "All riiiight!" Gareth began, holding the clipboard up. "Pass ports please!" Alfred handed them over and waited, turning to smile at Arthur who found him self blushing slightly.

"W-what?" He muttered defensively.

"Ok, so that's one Alfred F. Jones and one Arthur Kirkland." He scribbled away on the clipboard. "Why are you coming into Canada?"

"To visit family." Alfred answered. Gareth's brown eyes looked up expectantly at Arthur. Under his gaze Arthur felt himself falter.

"Same here, well, visit his family…" He whispered and nodded towards Alfred.

"Ooook, you'll be staying a while I'll bet…" He scribbled something else down. "And I already know your address! Easiest one of the day eh?" They shared a small laugh again. "Car registration?" Alfred handed the papers over and Gareth copied the information down before handing the paper and passports back. "Now I know you know not to bring anything bad into Canada… But for the sake of the camera's I need to look in your boot." Alfred waved his hand dismissively.

"Hey, it's fine, I wouldn't want you to lose your job because of me!" He pressed a button next to his chair, the boot popping up to let Gareth peek inside.

"Yep!" He called, closing the boot and walking back around to his window. "Everything's in order here, oh! Sorry forgot to stamp your passports." After passing them back, getting them stamped and then returning them, Gareth ticked them off and waved good-bye, going back to his office to open the bar for them and let them through.

Alfred gave him a wave through the window as they drove under the bar and into Canada. The car lurched slightly as it went over a bump in the road, making Arthur jump in his seat. A sudden feeling of weightlessness, a sense of freedom, was filling him as they had officially passed the boarder into Canada. He couldn't help but to look back, watching the boarder security office slowly become smaller and smaller as Alfred put more distance between them and America. He also noticed that Alfred had slowed down now that they were through too.

"Um… W-were you driving that fast… because-"

"Yeah, I, Gareth is a good friend of mine, and I don't think… No offense but I don't think we could have gotten through if they found out what you… Do." Alfred was facing the road but his eyes were cautiously watching Arthur. He could feel the baby blues on his skin. "I called ahead and got when he was working, lucky for us, it was a close shift."

"Oh..." Arthur nodded to himself and looked at the road ahead of them. He couldn't really argue that point. His 'profession' probably wouldn't have gotten him through the boarder and he was grateful to Alfred. Incredibly grateful. More grateful then he would probably ever admit. He didn't offer any more conversation and neither did Alfred. His was fidgeting in his seat again, his hands playing with the hem of Alfred's singlet.

They were silent again, with the exception of the radio that Alfred had now turned on. It buzzed softly with music that Arthur had never heard of before but the beat was catchy. He drummed his fingers against his leg in time to it.

"Huh." Alfred grunted beside him.

"What?"

"I never would have picked you for a Beatles fan."

"Beatles…" Arthur had heard of them, who hadn't? But he had never really listened to their music.

"This song is a classic!" Alfred grinned and reached down to turn it up. "Love, love me do, you know I love you! I'll always be true, so please love me do!" He sung out loud, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Arthur hummed along with him, the silence long gone.

They travelled a further four hours through Canada, stopping once for a lunch of chips and sausage rolls at a road side store before continuing on to Alfred's home away from America. Arthur only really started paying attention to the world outside the car window once civilisation started to thin out. Instead of many houses close together, or even apartments like his own, there were few large houses on even larger properties. "We live about… ten, fifteen minutes out of town? Out here is quiet, it's what our mum liked." Alfred had told him. Soon enough, Alfred was turning off the main road and onto a rocky, sandy driveway that led up a hill. Arthur blinked and looked up at the house atop the hill. The house was as large as it was tall, two stores and a veranda that encircled it. A path bordered with stones led up to the front door. A carport stood just to the side of the house and already had an inhabitant sitting quietly inside. The walls and roof of the house were glowing a pale golden colour in the late afternoon sun. It was quite serene, Arthur observed as the car pulled up under the carport.

Once outside the car the wind carried a chill to it and Arthur could feel it through his clothes. He looked to Alfred on where to go, not wanting to intrude on his mother if she was resting. Alfred was grabbing bags from the back of the car, hitching them up on his shoulders; he shut the boot and grinned at Arthur. "All right, lets get out of this wind!" He said merrily to his companion. Arthur pulled his bag out of the car and shut the door, shivering from cold as he followed Alfred around the car to a short staircase that led up to the veranda.

Without dropping a bag, Alfred knocked on the front door and waited patiently while Arthur inspected the paintwork. The salt water had obviously affected the paint and would probably need a new coat sooner rather than later.

A dark silhouette appeared behind the mosaic glass that decorated the wall next to the front door, then the jingle and click of keys in the lock before the door was swung open. Mathew stood before them in the same red hooded jumper and jeans that Arthur had first met him in. His eyes softened when he saw Alfred standing before him and Arthur could not help but try to hide behind the taller blonde. He did not particularly want the same cold treatment he had received last time.

"Hey bro." Alfred greeted him with a small wave.

"Hey Al… I was wondering when you'd arrive." Mathew's eyes travelled over Alfred's shoulder to where Arthur was standing. "And you brought company." Arthur smiled weakly back at the other man, and offered a small wave of his own. Mathew didn't appear to be too impressed. His expression hardened when he noticed Arthur and his body tensed.

"Yeah… Yeah, I'll have to explain that to you but for now, we've been driving all day! I want to get out of these shoes!" Mathew caved to his brother's whining and moved back, allowing Alfred and Arthur room to enter the house.

Inside Arthur was pleasantly surprised. Honestly he had expected the inside to rival the outside in it's aged look but it was unexpectedly modern, or as modern as one could go with a wooden house. The floorboards were a lovely mahogany colour while the walls ranged from white to pale hues of blue. A sea theme ran throughout the house from the decorations to the smell it emitted. He was sure that was because of the ocean lay on the other side of the house.

Mathew shut the door with more force then was needed, surprising Arthur and making him jump and clutch his bag tightly to his chest. Alfred seemed unaffected by his brother's behaviour as he continued through the house, leading Arthur upstairs and to a master bedroom. A large bed was situated in the middle of the back wall, two identical bedside tables next to it. Arthur stepped tentatively into the room after Alfred, peering around at the various shells and photos up on the walls. "You can put your bag down you know." Alfred spoke up from the other side of the room where he was currently pulling off his shoes. Arthur nodded as he continued to look around the room, gently placing his bag on the floor as he moved.

Alfred's family smiled at him from the photos, even Mathew, stone faced as he was now was laughing and enjoying him self in the photos. Of course in the photos Alfred's mother and Mathew's daughter were also present.

"We have an en suite too." Alfred's voice once again caught his attention. He turned to see Alfred disappear into the bathroom attached to the room. "It's got a shower and a toilet, if you want a bath though you'll have to use the main bathroom down the hall." He said as he appeared again. Arthur nodded while walking over to the bed, sitting down on it and gasping when he began to sink into the mattress. "Comfy right?" Alfred flopped down beside him, surprising the Brit once again.

"Yeah… It's very soft." He mumbled, lying back with Alfred. The blonde sent him a tired smile, as they lay, neither really knowing what to say to the other. Luckily Mathew who yelled for Alfred from downstairs broke the awkwardness. Alfred heaved him self up off the bed with a nearly inaudible sigh and left Arthur alone.

Arthur found he didn't mind his absence as much as he thought he would. He had so many thoughts whirling through his mind, so many emotions coursing through him that the cause of all his turmoil's absence was welcome. He pulled the hooded jumper closer around him; even indoors he could still feel a chill.

He eyed the room up again, the pictures, the décor it all seemed so… Utterly perfect and here he was, so ugly and so… Imperfect. A spec of dust residing unencumbered in a nice clean house. It was a crime that he was allowed to stay here, sleep in this bed, and accept hospitality from Alfred and his brother! Arthur let out a shuddering sigh as the darker unwelcome emotions filled his mind. This was all wrong, everything here was wrong! He should leave now and forget Alfred. His mind would recover and so would his heart but he couldn't stay here and corrupt Alfred and his life. He could never forgive him self should he bring misfortune to Alfred…

He spent the next few minutes preparing a plan in his mind of how he would escape and make his way to the nearest town. Alfred had said it was only about fifteen minutes to his town; there he could catch a lift with someone to somewhere else… And hopefully he could find work… Legal or otherwise, and one day he'd pay Alfred back for everything he had done for him. The plan seemed plausible in his mind and he decided to play it out as soon as possible… Probably tomorrow morning. He could wake up early if he needed to.

Was he really going to go through with this? Be ungrateful and just vanish from Alfred's life? If Francis were there he would probably have called Arthur a fool for thinking this way, tell him to stay with Alfred because what life did he have to go back to? No life, that was what. What had happened to his will? The want to get out of prostitution and make something of him self… Something more?

"A stupid dream…" He muttered darkly. A stupid dream that would never become fruitful in reality as he was a worthless excuse for a human being and deserved to waste away in the shadows. Arthur's feelings were getting the best of him. He rolled over on the bed so that his back was facing the door and closed his eyes. The mattress dipped as he moved, accommodating to his body.

He shouldn't be here… Not where Alfred was. He would leave in the morning and never look back. If he wanted to better him self then he would… But he didn't want to use Alfred to do it. Alfred would find someone else right? He had picked Arthur up off the street; there was no telling who else he had picked up too. Arthur grasped at his chest the moment he thought that. It had never occurred to him that Alfred might have picked up other prostitutes. He shocked him self, sitting up Arthur felt the sudden need for a shower.

The water was warm and very much welcome against his skin. Arthur sighed into the heat of the shower and relaxed. This would probably be his last shower for a long time so he needed to make it count.

After washing absolutely everywhere with a sweet smelling soap and cleansing his hair with some fruity shampoo and conditioner, Arthur felt satisfied. He stepped out of the bathroom in a towel, intent on getting changed back into his clothing when Alfred startled him.

The blonde was lounging on the bed nonchalantly, flipping through a magazine on what looked like cars. His eyes swivelled from the magazine to look up at Arthur, a silly grin forming on his face.

"Wow man you take looooong showers, were you shaving your legs in there too?" Arthur huffed and pulled the towel tighter around his waist.

"Belt up twit, I like feeling clean." He muttered back indignantly as he searched for his clothing.

"Oh, I took your clothes to the laundry, here!" Alfred jumped up and dug through one of the many bags he had brought along, pulling out a plain white shirt and some navy track pants. "These should be ok, at least for tonight yeah?" He tossed them at Arthur who flailed while he tried catching them and holding his towel up simultaneously.

Arthur mumbled a small 'thanks' as he walked to the other side of the room to change. He dropped his towel and quickly slipped on his underwear, glad that Alfred hadn't taken those to the laundry, before putting on the rest of Alfred's clothes. He didn't much care if Alfred had watched him or not while he changed. It wouldn't matter by tomorrow anyways.

A pair of arms snaked their way around Arthur's waist once he was done, holding him back against Alfred's body. Arthur would deny later that he let out a small squeak of surprise as he was engulfed in the hug from behind. Alfred's chin rested on his shoulder and leaned in close to his head; the warm breath tickled his skin and sent tingles down his spine. Arthur's hands remained poised in mid air, unsure of what to do with the unexpected actions.

He hadn't anticipated this, not at all! And if Alfred's past actions were anything to go by, Arthur didn't feel he could trust the hug. Not if at a later time he would be left alone again… He craved the tenderness, the sweetness and genuine affection behind the embrace, more then he would ever crave for a cigarette, but the heartbreak afterwards was getting old.

Arthur's hands dropped to his sides in defeat as his heart lost the battle raging inside him. He could feel Alfred's body tense against him, as though he had just felt Arthur's loss… More likely was that he took Arthur's actions for indifference towards his actions. Alfred finally let go and stood back.

"Umm, w-well Mattie said that dinner would be ready soon so… Yeah, just come down when you're ready." Arthur offered no response and Alfred didn't wait for one. The footsteps retreated from the room and down the stairs, leaving Arthur alone once more. He could hear the sorrow in Alfred's voice, how hurt it had been and the guilt gnawed away at his insides.

Arthur descended the stairs around ten minutes later, a pleasant smell wafted throughout the house catching his stomachs attention and finally drawing him out of his slump. Alfred sat at the dining room table; idly playing with a spoon while Mathew was busy serving up the meal in to bowels. Arthur stepped lightly around Alfred and sat in the spot next to him. Mathew appeared a moment later with two bowls and set them down in front of the pair.

"Minestrone soup." He said simply, and then left to fetch his own bowl.

They ate in an awkward silence. Arthur could feel the wrath that Mathew was emitting and it was obviously targeted at him. Alfred ate soundlessly, dipping his spoon in and eating the contents. Arthur slowly sipped his soup, liking the flavour. He had never had minestrone soup before. "This… This is very good." He said.

"Thanks." Was Mathew's bitter reply.

They finished dinner with Arthur offering to wash the dishes, a small chance of escape so that he wouldn't be left alone with either brother both of which he had managed to annoy. His fingers deftly turned plates and cleaned utensils while Alfred and Mathew disappeared into another room. The sound of various voices caught Arthur's attention as he realised that they were probably watching television.

He stood with his hands submerged below the dishwater and bubbles and wondered whether it was worth him leaving. Alfred's embrace earlier was proof right? He had driven the man to another country, he wasn't about to abandon him the next day right? Right? His fingers tightened around the spoon he had been cleaning till it hurt and he was forced to let go. He lifted his hand from the murky water and inspected the deep red mark in his skin. It would be gone in a few minutes. His shoulders sagged as his confusion continued, a definite answer eluding him as he was once again torn between staying and leaving.

After the dishes were cleaned and dried (He left them on the counter as he had absolutely no idea where anything went) Arthur made his way back up to shared bedroom and settled him self on the bed with a book; one of the two books that Arthur had found in his bag, a Jane Austin novel. He really did love reading about the English countryside and it's tales. It was such a different world from the one he currently lived in that it almost seemed to come from a different universe altogether.

A yawn escaped his mouth without resistance as Arthur decided that he had read enough about contrasting universes and if he was to wake up early he needed sleep. He placed the book down on the table beside him and flicked the switch on the lamp off, dousing the light and enveloping the room in darkness. He squirmed down under the heavy blanket and wrapped it around his body. It wasn't as good as Alfred's arms but he wasn't complaining. The less contact, the less it would hurt later.

It couldn't have been less then a couple of hours later when Arthur woke up. There was no light, nothing had touched him and there wasn't much noise except for the steady breathing of someone else in the bed. He blinked several times into the darkness as his eyes adjusted before sluggishly sitting up. Alfred's side moved in time to his breathing leaving Arthur to believe that he was asleep and had been so for a while, so what had woken him up?

Alfred's back was to him as he slept which hurt, though no more so then what he had done to Alfred earlier that day… And hadn't he been sleeping with his back to Alfred also?

Arthur swallowed but found the simple action difficult. The guilt was back as he realised that his behaviour was hurting Alfred when he didn't want it too. He needed to leave more then he had originally comprehended if he didn't want to continue hurting this man. This man, who from the kindness in his heart, had taken Arthur away from his life. If he stayed he would only continue to hurt Alfred.

With slowly deliberate movements, Arthur crept over to Alfred's side of the bed. Using the bed head to hold him, he leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Alfred's cheek. He hovered over the blondes face, uncertain of his actions. "I'm sorry." The whispered apology so quiet Arthur wasn't even sure the words had come out of his mouth.

Arthur pushed against the bed head, wincing when the wood groaned at the pressure but Alfred did not stir. With that small task done, Arthur settled him self back on his side of the bed and nestled up under the blanket once more.

...

_A/N:_

_This took my quite a while, I'm sorry guys! And as I've been writing I've realised that this is going to go longer than four chapters… It was only meant to be four, five at the most but I couldn't fit it all in this chapter… No way! It would be 50 pages long or something! So it'll probably go up to six chapters… Damn it… Then I realised that there were some issues that I wasn't going to address if I only wrote this up in four chapters…_

_Arthur is very fickle about his feelings in this chapter, he has a lot to push through, so his sudden flipping between wanting to be with Alfred and not is something like… He's worried that the reality of the situation will hurt him. It's different to fantasize about living with Alfred then to actually do it. Next chapter will contain lots of angry Mathew and angst-y Arthur and Alfred will be present._

_Also, if you guys are interested, for this particular story I have a play list of songs that I listen to while I write. It helps me get in the mood. A sad mood by the way._

_'Cosmic Love' by Florence + The Machine_

_'Last Night On Earth' by Delta Goodrem_

_'Iris' by Goo Goo Dolls_

_'Daylife' OST song from The Girl Who Lept Through Time soundtrack_

_'Be Strong' By Delta Goodrem_

_'Stop and Stare' by Vitamin String Quartet [Cover]_

_'Where I stood' by Missy Higgins_

_'Kiss From a Rose' by Seal_

_'Your Guardian Angel' by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_

_'Crazy' By Seal_

_'The Only Exception' by Paramore_

_'Little Wonders' by Rob Thomas_

_'Last Day On Earth' by Kate Miller_

_'Let It Grow' by Ester Dean [The Lorax soundtrack]_

_There are a few more but these are my favourites._

_Anyways, I need to get back to studying (My last exam is coming up in less then two weeks!) Please review and let me know what you think, I feel like this chapter is a bit… 'meh' in comparison to the previous ones._

_Thank you for reading!_


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